


A Private Matter

by simplesetgo



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-01
Updated: 2010-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesetgo/pseuds/simplesetgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something about Kahlan's appearance changed between Episode 7 "Resurrection" and Episode 8 "Light" in Season 2, and the show canon completely ignored it. This is my fix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Private Matter

“Richard. I need gold.”

It was a request delivered casually enough, or so Cara thought. But the Seeker turned from his seat and delivered the exact look she had been afraid of—curiosity. “What for?” he asked.

“It’s a private matter.” She crossed her arms irritably. Her attempt to procure the necessary amount without asking had been cut short by the Wizard’s timely and unmistakably purposeful cough the previous night.

“Oh.” He shrugged amiably. “How much do you need?”

****

He watched in amusement as the woman walked into his shop as if she owned it. Her blood red leather only served to confirm what was easily told by her manner—the blonde was a Mord-Sith. She took her time to reach the counter, and he waited with a faint smile while she canted her hips and placed her hands firmly on the surface.

Apparently the smile, tiny though it was, irked her considerably. “Do you know what I am?” she asked coolly.

“Aye,” he responded. “You are Mord-Sith.”

“What do you find amusing about the Mord-Sith that you would risk grinning at one like a fool?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m much at risk,” he replied easily. “You see, there’s not much room on that outfit of yours to hide that coinpurse. You’re here to do business, and you can’t do business with a dead man. So,” he spread his hands and smiled, “I am safe, no matter what you are.”

The blonde glared at him. “Maybe I’ll take what I want without paying.”

“I’m a tailor,” he pointed out. “So it says on the sign. So while you could take what you wanted, the chances of it fitting you are not good.”

“It’s not for me,” she replied, sighing in apparent resignation.

“Ah. Well, I’ll need to see the person in question then—to ensure the fit.”

“That won’t be possible.”

“I see.” Strangely, there were no legends about how _difficult_ these Mord-Sith could be. “Well, let’s find what you’re looking for, and you can describe the build for me as best you can.”

He joined her around the counter and they began perusing his wares. They stopped in front of one piece of clothing hanging on the rack, and she pulled it free to inspect it. “This is good,” she mused. “But it would need to hold up to travel and combat.”

“And it would, quite well,” he assured her. “Very nice piece, that one.”

****

It wasn’t until she was back in camp with the bundle at her side that Cara realized she was holding a gift under her arm. She had decided it was needed; it was hardly supposed to be a gesture of goodwill.

But here she was, standing awkwardly by the campfire with Richard and Kahlan staring at her. Zedd would have been had he not been busy rummaging through a pack for food.

“What’s that?” Richard asked at length.

Kahlan nudged him in the shoulder. “Maybe it’s none of your concern, Richard,” she murmured. Yet curiosity was plain in her features as well.

“It’s nothing,” Cara blurted. She whirled away, stalked to her bedroll, shoved the bundle inside her pack, and collapsed onto her side—away from inquisitive eyes.

“Aren’t you hungry? My stew isn’t bad this time,” Richard called.

“I’m tired,” she replied over her shoulder.

Cara stared at her pack, inches away from her, and suddenly wished she’d kept it secret. She could have left it with a note to be found in the morning. She sighed, quickly realizing it would still only take moments to be discovered. There were certain disadvantages to traveling with a Seeker of Truth and a Confessor.

****

Kahlan had all but forgotten about the bundle until it was shoved into her lap by a nervous Mord-Sith late one night. They were on Denna’s trail, but had ended up stopping for the night. Zedd’s wisdom informed them that Denna would eventually need to do the same, and the true object of their pursuit—the Compass—would stay with her.

It was Richard’s first night back in the world of the living after having his body used for Denna’s twisted purposes, but he was ever himself. His eyes widened—he’d apparently forgotten about the mysterious bundle as well.

Still, Kahlan looked up to the blonde, hovering awkwardly beside her, with a furrowed brow. “Cara?” The Mord-Sith’s intent seemed clear enough, but she didn’t want to risk a misunderstanding.

“Open it. It’s yours,” came the curt reply.

Kahlan looked down at the inviting strings across the package’s surface, and hesitated.

“Go ahead. Open it,” Richard urged.

Kahlan glanced to see Zedd furtively waving his fingers across the campfire, eyes pinched in concentration and very much focused on her present. “Zedd!” she called sharply. He froze, and his eyes widened before becoming the picture of innocence. “No peeking,” she chided.

He merely huffed and sat back, and she gave the strings an experimental tug. They fell away, and Kahlan bit her lip as she pulled at the rough paper wrapping. She caught a glimpse of dark green leather and deep maroon fabric, and her breath caught in her throat.

Kahlan pulled free a beautifully crafted corset and dress, and a matching hooded and sleeved jacket soon followed. Now it was her eyes that widened in amazement, and her lips parted well before words left them. “Cara,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

She stole a peek at Cara, and the blonde had a satisfied smile tugging the corners of her lips as she inspected her gift. But when she caught Kahlan's glance, she sniffed and cleared her throat. “If you were to end up having to meet Denna in combat, you’ll need more range of movement than that will allow.” She nodded dismissively at the old green traveling dress Kahlan was wearing, and Kahlan couldn’t stop the smile from breaking onto her face.

“So that’s why you waited,” Kahlan teased. “Until you were sure I needed it.”

Cara’s eyes darted to the side. “The tailor said it would hold up well to travel and combat,” she put forth. “I made sure he knew I would return if it didn’t.”

Kahlan’s smile widened at the deflection, and she wrapped the dark dress carefully in her arms before placing it on her pack beside her. She rose, quiet amazement catching up to her at what Cara had just done, and she risked a hand to the Mord-Sith’s shoulder. She was not about to embrace Cara—the blonde might either try to kill her or run off into the night. Maybe both.

But Cara tolerated the touch, and Kahlan spoke from her heart. “Thank you, Cara. I love it.” That smile teased the corners of Cara’s mouth again, and Kahlan granted her opportunity to fight it. The want was enough, she decided. “It looks to be very efficient, too,” she offered.

Cara nodded in answer. “The laces and fabric will breathe better than that one.”

Kahlan pursed her lips as an idea came to her, and she gripped Cara’s shoulder a little more firmly before letting go. “I’ll be right back.”

****

Cara waited anxiously with arms crossed, and it wasn’t long before Kahlan returned to the camp. She was wearing Cara’s gift, and she let her old dress fall from her hands as she moved self-consciously into the light of the fire.

“What do you think?” Kahlan asked nervously, eyes darting down over her own front.

There was a pregnant pause, and Cara was surprised to find her voice joining that of Zedd and Richard to utter the same exact word. “Beautiful.”

The Mother Confessor smiled, and though it was hard to tell from the fire, Cara thought she could see a sudden blush in her cheeks. She made a show of twirling around, and Cara watched in rapture. She had made Kahlan happy. She couldn’t remember the last time she had made anyone happy.


End file.
